


Will You Come Inside?

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have to go, Will.” She reached up, stroked her hand along his jaw, his stubble.</p>
<p>“It’s the middle of the night,” he tried to reason, “Stay. Please come inside.”</p>
<p>“I can’t. I would have, had you ever asked me. I would have, and I might have never left.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Come Inside?

Will’s eyes opened- his lips parting in a breath. He wasn’t sure if it was a noise, a light- movement or a touch, but something had told his body to move. He sat up, slowly, raking a hand up into his hair, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The dogs were undisturbed, laying about silently, as Will picked his glasses up and situated them, walking towards his door in bare feet, the fabric of his plaid cotton pants creating some of the only other sound in the room.

He stopped at his door, unlocking it and pulling it open, staring out the screen door into the cool, placid night. It seemed in order, living barely on a single breath, but Will was opening that final door and stepping outside anyway, bare feet on the wood of his porch, the cold seeping up into his soles. He looked around, his car parked and just a hunkering shadow to the world, the tree that stood tall and looming.

Its silhouette seemed wrong.

Will stepped down the stairs, walked along the grass that was damp, until he was at the trunk, staring up it. The moon left a soft, pale yellow glow, and against it he could see her, sitting a few feet above him, leaning against the tree’s hulking body and gazing off, into the sky and fields beyond his house.

“It’s cold,” Will called up, crossing his arms to rub his own biceps. “What are you doing up there?” He didn’t see her car, but didn’t feel like it even mattered. Beverly didn’t speak, she didn’t even look at him for a solid minute- just stared off, taking in the world that was his own, his private place in reality.

“I wish I saw the stars more,” she said, finally looking down, “they’re beautiful here.” Her gaze was black and startling in the night, and Will felt his lungs freezing up like solid ice.

He could have said _she_ was beautiful there- but she always was. Her maroon leather jacket shielded her from some of the cold, and Will wanted to run his fingers along it. Wondered if any of her warmth could seep up into it.

“Come down,” he said, instead, and Beverly swung her legs over the branch. He watched as she maneuvered down to a lower one, and then jumped, landing precisely in a crouch. As she straightened up, he reached out to guide her, taking a gentle hold of her arms.

He should ask why she was there, in the middle of the night, but the words never even became a thought for his tongue. All he could do was give her a weak sort of smile, one she returned with a sad tug on her lips.

“I wish you had asked me out here more,” she whispered, and Will rubbed his hands along her arms, felt the leather and wanted to pull her closer.

“You’re always welcome,” he responded, a little confused. Was she going somewhere? “You don’t need to ask. You...have an open invitation.” He wanted her closer, and he thought she could see it, in her sad dark eyes. They used to sparkle- when had that disappeared?

Beverly took a step closer, reached out, rubbed a hand along his chest and spread a fire beneath his thin t-shirt, up to his shoulder where it stayed. “You’re sweet, Will.” Her lips twitched into an almost smile. “I wish I’d said that.”

“You just did.” He let his hand trail up her arm, along the curve of her neck to cup her cheeks, fingers touching her hair, feeling silk. “Will you come inside? It’s cold.”

“I can’t.” She squeezed his shoulder, her breath coming out audibly. “You know I can’t.” He wanted to scream that she could, didn’t understand her in that moment. Why not? It was the middle of the night, there was no reason not to-

She stepped closer, into his space, his world, her arm curving around his shoulders, holding on. He felt her heat, vibrating into the air around him, and his other hand found her waist, clutching on, pulling her in. She turned to liquid against him, fell against his chest and into his arms, and Will abandoned his hold on her face to hold her, rock her gently against the chilling breeze that rose up. She felt small, like delicate bones with cores of steal, like rose petals stretched as flesh. He could break her, anyone could, if they got in close enough.

He leaned in, pressed his face into her hair. Ah, but she was Beverly, and no one would ever get that close. She was a pillar, a lighthouse against his storming seas, a beacon of light so he knew the direction of home. She was reality, she was stable- she was there and she would never cease to be there. Will kissed her hair, couldn’t stop himself, felt her nestle into his neck, whispering against it.

“I’m going to go,” she was saying, into his pulse, “I’m going to go Will, and you need to be strong.” He pulled back, only slightly, looked up at him- held his eyes, because with Beverly eyes weren’t _too distracting_. “You need to hold onto what is real, Will.”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head, felt her hands tightening in his t-shirt. She looked beautiful in the near dark, with the yellow moon in her obsidian eyes. “Come inside Beverly, it’s cold. It’s the middle of the night.” He hesitated a moment, then, feeling brave, his belly warm from her touch, “You’ve been out here for a while. Let me warm you up.”

When she smiled, it was real, and Will was melting into her, for her, becoming everything and nothing- whatever she wanted. “Will.” His name was velvet fire on her tongue, wrapped in lace and delivered as a gift, and he wanted to have it again and again. “I would. You know I would.”

“Then why are we standing here?” She looked away, a flick of her eyes, and then back again. Her smile dipped, faded, and then she was pulling him in by his t-shirt, her mouth finding his, a breath of coolness against his own lips. Will’s hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer, until she was flush against him. He let her mouth lead, followed her lips, the stroke of her tongue along his lower lip- but no more, despite his desire to praise the muscle that was so clever in many ways. It was lips and breath and Will took what he was blessed with, until Beverly leaned back, her lips twitching, once- a minuet smile and nothing more.

“I have to go, Will.” She reached up, stroked her hand along his jaw, his stubble.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he tried to reason, “Stay. Please come inside.”

“I can’t. I would have, had you ever asked me. I would have, and I might have never left.”

“I’m asking you now.” Will stomach began to tighten, and suddenly the air felt colder, all wrong. This was suddenly strange, everything he could have accepted a moment earlier was simply out of place. He wanted her to follow him inside, to curl up in his bed in the dark and let the world right itself. He wanted Beverly like he had, for so long- things he had kept quiet, in glances only. Things that lived solely in his mind. “Will you come inside?”

She shook her head, gently. “It’s too late, Will. I’m sorry.” Another gentle caress along his jawline, her fingers tips touching his curls. “I’m going to go now, Will. Remember, you have to hold on. For me.”

Will opened his mouth to speak, but she was pulling him in, embracing him again, holding him tightly, until she was diluting into him, seeping into his pores, making a home in his bones. The world went black, and when Will opened his mouth it was a rush of black water, chilled like ice and making him feel like he was drowning. He clutched at her, until he was holding himself, until he was frigidly cold, and Beverly was pulled apart and inside him-

His eyes snapped open, mouth agape as he gasped for breath, staring up at the dark ceiling of his home. Will sat up, groaning, running his hands over his face, body covered in the slick layer of sweat that often accompanied him most nights. He shook his head, licked his lips- tasted Beverly, or what he imagined to be her.

He’d never had the courage to kiss her. Not while she was alive. Not once.

He stood up, stumbling through the room, the dogs waking, watching. He threw open the doors to his house, made his way outside- it was raining now, it soaked him quickly as he left the cover of his porch, made his way to the large tree where she had been perched, behind his closed eyes.

He found it empty, and knew he could. No Beverly gracing it like a night owl, bathed in pale yellow light- light that did not exist with the rain. He wrapped his arms around himself, clutching desperately, wanting to sink to his knees and crash his head into the rough bark. Wanting to bring her back, his dreams where she could touch and kiss, where she was alive.

She was dead. He knew that. She had been dead for over a year. The scar on his belly was a reminder of the time that had passed, of the life that had happened in her absence. It throbbed and he clutched at his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was in the dark, and he was alone in that darkness. His lighthouse had crumbled, had left him cast out to sea with no way to see the rocks along the shore, with no idea of what direction offered home. He was alone and he was terrified. He was holding onto frayed threads that offered no support, snapping with each passing day.

She has asked him to be strong, but Will wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on, for her. Without her. If he closed his eyes and begged for it, those dark icy waves could grab a hold of him, and take him home. A new home, a home set in a separate reality, where she was waiting with her smile, cocky and playful and so stunning the world stopped to stare at it, simply for the sake of indulgence. A reality where he never asked her to come inside- instead, she stood at the threshold with her knowing eyes, sad and overjoyed all at once- and asked him.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I got the idea for a little Katz and Dogs angst, and I couldn't shake it.


End file.
